


For the Sake of Art

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Humor, Team as Family, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Surrounded by friends and strangers on the roof of the UN building, Angela stands proudly as her photo is taken. The catch? Everyone is as naked as the day they were brought into this world.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 39





	For the Sake of Art

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for the Let Mercy Say Fuck zine.

“You look nervous.”

Angela _ is _ nervous. _ Anyone _would be nervous standing naked on the roof of the UN building wrapped in nothing but a blinding neon pink sheet with a thousand other people.

It was a split decision—life had become a vicious cycle of work and sleep. Sure, everyone on base is grateful for the long hours she puts in and they do their best to include her in extracurricular activities, but between keeping an eye on them, missions, doing her own research, and writing papers, that’s all there _ is: work and sleep_. 

Life had become monotonous. She wanted a spark of excitement; she wanted to do something spontaneous and feel _ alive. _This has certainly hit the spot. 

While she is nervous, she is glad that she’s not doing this alone.

She glances at Genji. “And you’re not?”

“Just a little,” Genji replies. “No one has seen me like this, and now I will be showing the world…”

_ —Genji— _

“You need a holiday.”

Angela glares at Genji. “You think?”

“When was the last time you had some time off?”

“Does the conference in Singapore count?” she asks absently, staring at the blank open document, the text indicator flashing mockingly.

“Did you have fun? Go out? Get drunk? Get laid?”

Huffing, Angela closes the document and opens a web browser. “Swiss Alps,” she says as she types, “winter, no one around but wine and a fireplace and a few good books.”

“That sounds pleasant.”

Angela nods. “It sounds _ ideal. _”

As she looks through the results, she sees a link to a nude photoshoot by famous photographer Oliver Olsson. Curiosity turns into excitement as she reads the brief. It asks for people of all body shapes and sizes, human, omnic, and cybernetic.

She shelves the holiday plans for the moment, turning her display to show Genji. “This,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat, “I changed my mind. I want to do _ this _.”

Genji leans forward, nodding as he reads. “Do you want company?”

Angela opens her mouth to speak, but holds it. Genji’s never been one to be so liberal with showing off more of his cybernetic body than he has to. “You don’t have to,” she murmurs.

“It will be more fun with others.” Genji pauses, a warm smile blooming on his lips. “I have been feeling confident recently. I suppose with Hanzo here—and now that he is in a place where he has forgiven himself, now that he does not look at me like a _ thing, _ but his brother…” He meets Angela’s gaze. “I would like to do this. My body is my own. I no longer look at it and feel disgusted. I am happy with who I am.”

“Genji.” Blinking back tears, she stands, walks around her desk and throws her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispers.

Genji squeezes her a little bit tighter. When he pulls away, he’s got a devilish look in his eyes. “Do you think we can convince anyone else to join us?”

* * *

Angela lifts her arm out of her sheet and holds out her hand. Genji takes it, squeezing tight. “You have nothing to fear,” she murmurs. “You are beautiful.”

“Yes!” Reinhardt booms from behind them, giving Angela what is probably the biggest scare of her life. “Everyone is beautiful! Even our resident gnome.”

“I’m sorry, to whom are you referring?” Torbjörn asks, indignant. He pulls his sheet up a little higher, tucking into his armpits as he clutches it tight in both fists. “Everyone is short compared to you, giant!”

“Yeah!” Hana retorts from Angela’s other side, “speak for yourself!”

_ —Reinhardt, Torbjörn and Hana— _

“Here comes trouble!”

“Just look at that smile.”

Angela can't help it, positively grinning as she approaches Reinhardt and Torbjörn, dropping into the chair. Reinhardt pours her a beer, sliding the stein over the table roughly and spilling beer along the way. “I don’t believe me smiling is _ trouble_,” she says, grabbing the handle.

“Usually,” Torbjörn says, leaning forward over the table, “you slouch and you glare at everyone who looks your way. So yes, Reinhardt is right: here comes trouble.”

“It is not, I assure you,” Angela replies, taking a prim sip of beer. 

“Then what’s got our favorite doctor so cheery?” Reinhardt asks.

“I found something I want to do,” she says cautiously, looking into her beer. She wasn’t nervous before approaching them, but now that she’s about to ask if they would like to come with her, her stomach is doing flips. “I was wondering,” she looks between them, takes a breath and holds it, “if you would like to join me,” she finishes quickly, releasing the breath.

Torbjörn’s brow furrows, but Reinhardt grins. They glance at each other, then look back at her. 

“I’m in,” Reinhardt says, raising his beer in toast.

Angela scoffs. “I haven’t told you what it is yet!” 

“If it was something you didn’t think we would like to do,” Reinhardt replies, shrugging, “you wouldn’t have asked us.” 

“_ I _would like to know what it is before agreeing,” Torbjörn says. “Not all of us leap head-first into the unknown.”

“Live a little!” Reinhardt laughs before taking a hearty gulp of beer. 

“It is a photoshoot,” Angela says, turning her attention to Torbjörn. 

“You want to take my picture?” Torbjörn asks.

“A group picture. On the UN building in Geneva.”

Torbjörn narrows his eyes. “What’s the catch?” 

“There will be at least a thousand of us.”

“And?”

Angela smiles broadly. Despite the anxiety, she feels a spark of glee at the thought of the unusual shoot. “We will be naked.”

There is a moment of complete silence. Torbjörn glances at Reinhardt, then back to her. “Okay.”

“That was easy,” Angela says, surprised.

“When have any of us ever had any shame?” Torbjörn chuckles. “You know what summers are like here. Many of us would sunbathe naked back in the day.”

“The human body is a wonderful thing,” Reinhardt adds. “Nothing anyone should be ashamed of. We will gladly join you.”

“Do I _ want _ to know what you three are talking about?” 

Angela turns, seeing Hana standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. “Depends. Are you adventurous?”

“Of course! But the three of you sunbathing naked is a mental image I didn’t need.” Hana steps into the mess hall and takes a seat at their table. “But I _ am _curious.”

“We are participating in a photoshoot with a thousand other people on the roof of the UN building,” Angela tells her.

“Seems innocuous enough,” Hana replies with the same level of suspicion Torbjörn had. 

“We will be naked,” Angela says confidently, and Hana nods slowly, rubbing her chin. “You don’t have to do it. I understand culturally—”

Hana bursts into laughter. “When am I ever one to turn down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?”

Angela grins.

* * *

“Like I said,” Reinhardt says, beaming, “everyone is beautiful.”

Angela turns to glance over her shoulder but stops when she hears clapping. The photographer is standing on a platform looking at them all. As the crowd goes silent, Angela chews on the inside of her cheek; the gravity of what comes next settles on her.

“Hello everyone. My name is Oliver. Thank you for joining me on this cold winter’s morning!” He pauses as the crowd claps and cheers. “Would you like to know what temperature it currently is?”

A clash of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ sweeps through the crowd, quickly followed by an infectious cheering. Angela lifts her other arm out of the sheet, holding her arms to her body to clap too. 

“It is a lovely, brisk one-degree Celsius!”

“Just so you all know,” Genji says, turning to the group, “it’s small because it’s freezing.” 

Angela cannot help but laugh, and it eases her anxiety a little. She won’t be alone. Everyone will be doing this with her. 

“First off,” Oliver says, “I’m going to take a few photos of you in your sheets. Then you’ll drop them, we’ll get a few more photos, do a couple of poses, and then I’ll ask you to open those boxes my crew have been telling you not to touch.”

Angela looks at the box by her feet. That little box has been teasing her, but she had had to tell Genji _ not _to take a peek when he pushed it around with his foot trying to figure out what it was.

“Okay,” Oliver says, “I want you to stand about a foot apart from each other. Leave the sheets on for now.”

With a glance to everyone around her as they move, Angela takes a step forward to move away from Reinhardt. Oliver’s assistants weave through the crowd, adjusting the position of people as required. They stand still as Oliver takes a few snaps from various angles, following his directions as he goes. 

“Now, it’s time to drop the sheets.”

There is a quiet murmur from the crowd, some gasps, some giggles, but one long, familiar groan carries out in particular, followed by a just-as-familiar chuckle. 

“Don’t know how you managed to convince me to come along,” Jesse says, “but I regret everything.”

“It will be fine,” Angela replies, glancing over her shoulder. “Surely the excitement is enough to negate the cold.”

“You would think,” Hanzo answers, “but he has been complaining endlessly about this moment and it is a miracle that he is still standing here.”

“Oh, har har,” Jesse retorts. “Not all of us are used to the cold. Sure, Santa Fe got cold in winter, but ain’t never went out in my birthday suit.”

Hanzo looks at Angela flatly. “See?”

_ —Jesse and Hanzo— _

“You’re doing _ what?” _

“It’s a nude photoshoot.” Angela hands over her tablet, showing the photographer’s portfolio. She glances at Hanzo as he busies himself in the kitchen. “The invitation is for a thousand people.”

Jesse looks at the tablet utterly mortified, flicking through pictures of his other naked shoots before placing it down. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“You want to willingly strip down to nothing in the freezing Swiss winter to take a few photos?”

“Yes.”

“You’re mad.”

Angela frowns. “I had thought you would have been the first to jump on board. Reinhardt said yes before I even told him what it was about.”

“This is the same Reinhardt who walks around communal changing rooms naked. He ain’t got issues getting his kit out.”

“So the issue is people seeing you naked?”

“Yes—well, no, I mean—” Jesse huffs, looking at the tablet. “There’s no way I can be adequately drunk enough to one, get naked in front of you and whoever else has said yes, and two, survive the freezing cold. I like my liquor, but I don’t wanna drink_ that _ much first thing in the morning.”

Shrugging, Angela holds her hand out for the tablet. Jesse hands it over. “No problems, then. Just know that Hana has agreed to it.”

“Agreed to what?” Hanzo asks as he sits down, placing a mug down in front of Jesse.

Angela gives Hanzo her full attention. “We will be doing a photoshoot. A _ nude _photoshoot.”

“The one on the UN building?”

“You’ve heard of it?” she asks, grinning when Jesse scoffs.

“I saw it. I was thinking of doing it myself, actually. I did not think anyone else would be interested.”

“You?” Jesse asks, dumbfounded. “Since when?”

“Since I saw the invitation?”

“No, since when do you _ do _ this kind of stuff?”

“Ah.” Hanzo smiles wistfully, wrapping his hands around his own mug. “I promised myself that I would do things I wanted to do. Things I wouldn’t have been able to do in my former life.”

“You ever done anything like this before?”

“I have partaken in events like this, yes. One must be naked at onsens, also.” Hanzo huffs a little laugh, taking a sip of his tea.

“So that’s a yes, then?” Angela asks. 

Hanzo nods. “Yes.”

“Perfect,” Angela replies, pleasantly surprised. 

“Are you joining us too?” Hanzo asks curiously, looking at Jesse.

Jesse glances between Hanzo and her, and she can see as his frown starts to ease that he’s starting to crack. Anyone else and she would leave them be, but she’s known Jesse for close to two decades. He’ll do it. 

“Who else has agreed?” he asks with a sigh.

“Torbjörn and Genji.”

“Genji?” Jesse scoffs. “Shit.”

Hanzo doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks proud of his brother. It glows in him, a quiet kind of happiness. 

“Fine,” Jesse concedes. “If Genji can do it. If Hanzo, you—and hell, even Hana?—I can too.”

“It would be unwise of you to drink beforehand,” Hanzo says, knocking his elbow against Jesse’s.

“I won’t,” Jesse murmurs. “I’ll be fine. Nervous as all fuck, but I’ll be fine.”

“You shouldn’t worry,” Angela says as she stands. “You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen.” She winks before turning to leave.

* * *

“Do you remember what I said?” Angela says to Jesse, and he looks at her with dread.

“‘Yeah,” Jesse replies sullenly, shimmying out of his sheet and holding it at his waist. He shivers violently, scoffing when Hanzo chuckles from beside him. “Hey! I don’t see _ you _outside your sheet.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, and without breaking eye contact, he drops his sheet. 

“Let’s do this, then,” Jesse snaps. 

Angela will never truly understand these two. From the training range to drinking, everything is a competition. 

She leaves them be after that, turning to the front and realising she’s one of the few remaining people with their sheet on. Closing her eyes just for a moment, she musters the courage to let go of her sheet, flinging it away. 

It’s an odd feeling, being naked in front of her coworkers, those she considers her family, and complete strangers. She lifts her head. She feels liberated, excited, _ free_.

Oliver takes several shots: from a distance, up close, weaving through the crowd and taking close-ups of prosthetics, cybernetics, tattoos and scars. Drones whirr overhead, the click of Oliver’s shutter disappearing as he continues on.

Eventually, Oliver directs them to open their boxes. Excited chatter ripples through the crowd. Angela opens hers and sees a jar of magenta paint. 

She smiles wide when Genji approaches with another magenta pot, brushing his shoulder against hers. She looks at the rest of the group. Hana and Reinhardt are already smearing cyan on themselves. Torbjörn’s looking at the emerald green on his fingers like it’s an unknown foreign substance, scrunching his face when he sees Hanzo working the same color over his tattoo. 

Jesse flashes them finger guns as he approaches, waving the jar and revealing yet more magenta.

“That will look lovely on you,” Angela says.

“I will _ rock _this,” Jesse says defiantly, opening the jar and reeling. “Shit, this is bright.”

Angela opens her jar and sighs. “We will be washing this off for days.”

“Days?” Genji scoffs. “Try weeks. Some of us have hinges.”

“Preach,” Jesse adds, holding out his left arm. They high-five. 

Angela huffs a little laugh, dipping her hand in. She keeps her eyes down, focusing on applying it everywhere she can reach. “Who needs help with their back?” she asks, glancing up.

“Please,” Jesse says, turning around. “Don’t mind me though,” he says, slapping a handful of paint on his buttocks. 

Keeping her eyes up, she focuses on covering his back. “Done.”

“Okay, your turn,” Jesse says, and when she turns around, she’s greeted with Genji’s grinning face.

Angela takes his paint and he turns. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Genji replies. “I know you wanted to do this for you, but thank you for inviting me.”

“Anytime.” Angela gives Genji’s shoulder a squeeze, smiling softly when he looks back at her.

“This has been almost thirteen years in the making,” he murmurs, and Angela catches the glance in Hanzo’s direction, a faint smile on his lips. “I never thought I would get here.”

“I am so happy for you, Genji,” she says, feeling a bloom of pride in her chest. She’s seen him grow from the boy she healed and put back together to the man standing in front of her now, finally happy in his own skin. 

“Yeah, Genj,” Jesse says, patting Angela’s back before stepping around her, “Glad you’re here.”

“I could not have done it without your support,” Genji says, turning around and looking between her and Jesse. “Yours and everyone else’s.”

Angela nods, trying her hardest to not burst into happy tears again.

“All right,” Oliver says. “Looks like everyone’s painted. I want to take pictures of you all in your color groups, so please look for the person holding your colored flag.”

Six colored flags shoot up in the air, and she leads Genji and Jesse slowly across the rooftop, weaving through the sea of color until she is surrounded by magenta. They stand one foot apart again, and Oliver and the drones snap more photos.

“Very good,” Oliver says eventually. “You can mix now. Move in closer, get a little friendly with those around you. I’m looking for casual, so if you’re here with friends, gather around them. If you’re here alone, make some new friends! You’ve all seen each other naked. You can’t get more personal than that. If your paint smears together, let it happen!”

Finding Reinhardt’s mountainous form is the easiest, so they head there. Hana is positively beaming, Reinhardt is fervently talking to Torbjörn, and Hanzo takes one look at Jesse, then Genji, and bursts into laughter.

Despite being distracted, they gather around each other as if posing for a group photo, arms draped on shoulders or wrapped around waists. 

“No regrets?” Hana asks from beside her.

Angela beams. “None.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) Come say hi!


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